


lay your hands on me

by allmywill



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Experimentation, Filthy, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, First Time Bottoming, Getting Together, Gloves, Hand & Finger Kink, Leather, Lust, M/M, Making Out, Object Penetration, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-22 13:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22650541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmywill/pseuds/allmywill
Summary: John isreallyinto Roger’s fingerless gloves. And Roger himself.
Relationships: John Taylor/Roger Taylor (Duran Duran)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pink_and_Velvet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/gifts).



> happy (early) birthday, Tash!! i can honestly say that you have changed my life and i figured this was the least i could do for you. i’m so so glad we met. i always look forward to our conversations, they’re the highlight of my day! i want to thank you for everything the past few months, just you being here has made my life so much brighter. you deserve all the good things in the world. sending love and hugs your way, always 💕 i think you’ll enjoy this one!
> 
> inspired by pics of Roger with those leather gloves, because damn. and title from the Thompson Twins song!

John watches from behind Roger as he slips on one fingerless glove at a time, unaware of his wandering eyes. He’s had a fascination with those gloves recently, and whenever Roger puts them on, he can’t help but stare, longing.

They compliment his hands very nicely. There’s a gap in the sleek leather that shows off the backs of his hands, the contours of his veins visible. John’s eyes move up to his toned arms, watching his muscles flex. He has to stop himself from drooling or moaning out loud. Both would be equally embarrassing, he reckons.

He’s almost scared right out of his skin when Roger turns around. _Caught_. He breaks into a smile when he sees him and John tries to act casual. “Ready for the—uh, show tonight?”

“Yeah, yourself?” he asks, in his sweet, soft spoken tone that’s music to John’s ears.

“I guess so.” John moves closer, pretending that he’s not daydreaming about Roger’s hands all over him.

But he’s never been good at pretending. It’s so _obvious_ what he’s up to inside his reckless mind.

Roger doesn’t say anything, just toys with the gloves. John’s thoughts drive him mad in every direction. He visions those hands on his body, gliding over his bare skin as Roger takes him, those gorgeous muscles flexing...

He’s hot all over and Roger doesn’t seem to notice. And if he does, he keeps it to himself. John doesn’t blame him.

“I like your gloves,” John tells him lamely. “Do they help you... you know, grip the sticks when you’re playing?”

“Thanks, Johnny.” Roger looks up at him and his smile brightens. “They do.”

John has never wanted to kiss him more in his life, or anyone, for that matter. The desire burns in his chest, a fire spreading through his body. This heat is familiar to him. It’s how lust feels. He’s well acquainted with the feeling, but Roger is the outlier this time.

He’s never hooked up with anyone within his own band before. But there’s a first time for everything and it’s just bound to happen eventually.

“Can I?” he asks, his hands finding Roger’s own. He watches his eyes for signs of danger, but finds none present.

Roger nods, the mood shifting between them in an instant. John doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s just acting on his own foolish impulse, doing what his body is begging him to do. He’s not thinking. He already knows what he wants.

The tension between them could be cut with a knife, thick and heavy. All thoughts of their upcoming show disappear from their minds. John runs his fingers over the smooth leather adorning his hands, watching Roger’s eyes darken. He wants him so very badly. He’d do anything to have him, anything at all.

John brings one of Roger’s hands up, slowly taking his index finger into his mouth. Roger’s eyes watch as his finger moves past his lips, mesmerized to a standstill. The action itself is filthy, dirty, and not at all something friends do. John imagines it’s something much bigger instead as he swirls his tongue around the digit.

Roger’s eyes widen. He stares at John’s lips, breath growing shallow. He presses closer to him, his other gloved hand wandering to John’s waist, drawing him in.

“Two minutes!” They hear Simon’s voice call, distant but growing closer as he comes down the hall.

John pulls away, pulling Roger’s finger out of his mouth. He smiles as they both back away, an unspoken truth between them, so loud in their minds. It cannot be ignored or let go that easy.

“Come find me after the show,” Roger tells him. He hates to end this here, but they have a show to play and the people are waiting for them.

“God, _yes,_ ” comes John’s desperate reply.

———

As soon as the door shuts to John’s hotel room, he’s on Roger like white on rice. He’s waited so long for this, to act on his wild attraction. _Finally_.

They kiss as they cross the room, clinging to each other and searching for a sofa, or a bed, or something soft to land on together. It’s dark and neither can see anything, so it proves to be quite the task. They stumble, trying not to fall on their faces before the real fun even begins.

They giggle into each other’s mouths as John falls back on the bed, Roger falling on top of him. John moves a hand from his face to feel him up, caressing his bicep. It feels so good to be underneath him like this, and John thinks this is just where he belongs tonight.

“Why... why’d it take so long for us to do this?” John asks him, breathless.

“You were expecting me to make a move, and I wasn’t sure if you were into me or not.”

John laughs softly, burying his face into the crook of Roger’s neck. “You’re kidding, right? Fuck, maybe we’re both idiots.”

“I’d enjoy this a lot more if I could see your face,” Roger says. “Hold on.”

He climbs off of him and fumbles for the bedside table, tugging the string on a lamp. Warm light washes over them, and Roger takes in the sight of John. He’s all laid out on the bed, waiting for him. The sight is thrilling and he wastes no time returning to him.

“Much better.” John pulls him down once more, into the big bed.

Their mouths meet again in a heated kiss, lips moving to a rhythm all their own. Roger slots between John’s long legs, heart leaping in his chest when they wrap around his midsection. John slides his tongue into his open mouth, wanting, needing more of him. It’s still not enough.

“Still got the gloves?” John asks when they part for air.

Roger smiles. “Of course I do.” He draws back slightly to reach in the pocket of his white vest, pulling them out and holding them up.

“I want you to put them on again,” John starts, swallowing what’s left of his pride, “and fuck me with your fingers.”

“Okay, did you bring—”

“There’s a tiny bottle of lube digging into my hipbone right now,” John interrupts. “Damn leathers, no pockets.”

Roger lets out a chuckle. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Good thing to have on hand, yeah?”

“Guess so,” Roger replies, putting the gloves on once more. He reaches for the top of John’s leathers and starts tugging them down his legs. They’re incredibly tight, and look as if they were painted right on his legs.

The bottle of lube falls to the duvet and John retrieves it promptly. He watches Roger slip the vest off and toss it aside, revealing a black sleeveless shirt underneath. He looks so divine in the lamplight and John doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“You’re gorgeous,” Roger tells him, whisper quiet, as he yanks his boxers down.

John throws his head back and moans, the feeling of the leather gloves against his skin getting him hotter. He spreads his legs once his completely bare, his cock free and aching for stimulation. “Keep talking, wanna hear your voice.”

Roger takes the lube from him and dispenses some on two of his fingers. “Alright, ready?”

“Please, Rog.”

He complies, pressing them in, slow and steady. John sighs underneath him, already beginning to grind down. He’s always been impatient in bed; Roger will discover that sooner or later, if they keep this up. He’s hoping they do.

“More?”

John grips the duvet, the pleasure starting to get to him. “ _Ah_ — more.”

Roger adds another finger, dipping deeper into John and drawing another moan out of him. He takes his other gloved hand and starts to pump John’s cock in time with each thrust of his fingers. He watches his expression shift, the ecstasy sending him reeling. He looks almost angelic like this, though he’s far from being innocent.

“Did you think about me the entire show?” Roger continues to pleasure him, making sure he feels good. “Think about my hands all over you?”

John screws his eyes shut, then opens them again. He never dreamed his hands would feel this way, so careful yet skilled. “ _Yes_ , fucking hell. Want you so bad.”

“I was hoping we’d have more time, before the show.” Roger recalls John sucking on his index finger, with that knowing, filthy look in his eyes. What a perfect mental image, and it’s all for him.

“I would’ve sucked you off right there if we had.” John grinds down again, as the heat pools in his stomach. He wants to last longer, but Roger’s wonderful hands feel much too good. “Gonna come, more.”

Roger adds a fourth finger, John a moaning mess at his will. He hits his sweet spot with each movement and before long, he’s releasing, coming all over one of Roger’s gloves. The leather is as good as ruined.

He’s practically seeing stars, his chest rising and falling as he tries to sit up. Roger pulls his fingers out and leans in for another kiss, rough and full of the pure lust that brought them together in the first place. John’s in paradise, but they’re not finished yet.

He slides off the bed, getting down on his knees. Roger follows, standing in front of him. He knows what’s likely to come next. John tugs at his leathers. They’re not nearly as tight as his own, though he does have to use some force to get them down. “Ever been sucked off by another man?”

Roger shakes his head. “No, you’ll be the first.”

“I’ll make it so good, you’ll come crawling to me when you’re in need,” John says before Roger’s hard cock springs free. He takes him into his mouth without hesitation.

“Convenient,” Roger retorts. He tangles a gloved hand in John’s locks, pulling slightly.

John swirls his tongue and takes him deeper, drawing a groan out of him. This is just what he wanted earlier in the night, before they ran out of time and they had to go onstage. He hollows out his cheeks, looking up at Roger. He wants to see his reaction. He needs to see that striking face contort in pleasure.

Roger didn’t think he’d be so good at this. Now he knows, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to forget so easily. John’s big brown eyes are glued to him; he can’t look away and he’s not going to last like this, not with his talented mouth around his cock.

Where he practiced this, Roger doesn’t want to know. That’s a question he won’t ask.

“Close, _fuck John_.” He thrusts into his mouth, the pleasure making his knees buckle. “Your mouth...”

A few moments and John feels him release, swallowing like he’s done many times before. He feels so dirty and he loves it. He doesn’t even have to say goodbye this time, because it’s Roger. He could get used to this. He could get used to the two of them being more than a one time thing.

John rises to his feet and brings Roger in, pressing his lips to his neck. They’re both spent, but neither want it to be over just yet.

“Best you’ve had?”

“Don’t wanna feed your ego too much.” Roger wraps his arms around his waist, bringing him closer. “But yeah, you are. And sorry for getting come in your hair.”

John didn’t even notice. “It’s whatever. Wanna help me get it out?”

That’s an invitation Roger didn’t expect to receive tonight, but he would be crazy not to take it. “You’re something else,” he tells him, words laced with affection. “Of course.”

“Good. Sorry... about your gloves,” John chuckles. God knows he won’t be wearing them again after this.

“I have other pairs, you know.”

John’s eyes widen. He pulls back from Roger’s embrace. “What?”

“You heard me. But first, a shower.”

John reckons he’s never been more excited about gloves in his life. He has Roger to thank for that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another installment was needed, of course. enjoy!

“Are you sure about this?”

John is spread out on the bed, stripped, milky white skin on display for Roger. He watches his gloved hands slick up one of his drumsticks, the smooth wood shiny. This is a first for both of them.

He nods. “It was my idea, wasn’t it?”

Roger still seems a bit hesitant. “I just don’t want to hurt you, that’s all.”

“You won’t,” John tells him, “but I’d let you know if it did.”

Roger grips his hip, the new leather against his skin. He watches John, all turned on by him, practically begging for it at this point. “Alright, ready?”

“I’ve been, _please_ Rog.” John throws his head back, brown locks falling out of his face. He has never wanted anything more. His attraction to Roger, and everything he does, is to blame.

He takes his other hand and slowly pushes the tip of the drumstick into him. He never thought of doing anything like this with his equipment before, but John has him second guessing a lot of things lately. His influence is strong, no doubt about it. He would give John whatever he wants, anything he would ask for. That both intrigues and scares the shit out of him.

John, arms above his head, emits a deep sigh. He clutches the sheets, long fingers tangled in white. He keeps his eyes on the ceiling. This feels much different than Roger’s fingers, but it’s oddly satisfying. Oddly pleasurable.

Roger keeps going, pushing it deeper, then draws back again. He watches John’s face for any sign of pain, though he finds none present. John must be used to this sort of thing. Roger isn’t surprised in the slightest; he’s sure he gets up to crazier things when he’s out of sight.

He wants to be the only one John does the crazy things with.

“You’re doing so good, Johnny.” Roger knows he has a little thing for praise too, along with a slew of other things—so many kinks. “More?”

“Fuck yes,” John moans out. The push and pull of self control within him will only allow him so much rope. It won’t be long until he loses it entirely, because he wants more. He always needs more of Roger.

He honors his wish with haste. John keens, tightening his grip on the sheets. Seeing him like this has Roger in a frenzy, watching his beautiful form writhe on the bed in pleasure. He’s quite hard himself, aching with want, aching for anything to relieve that wanting.

As he keeps his pace, Roger bends down to press kisses to John’s exposed skin. He starts with his stomach and works his way up, teasing his nipples with his tongue.

John’s hands release the sheets and reach for Roger instead, finding his hair. He tugs at it, messing up his perfect do. “Want your cock,” John grunts, growing exasperated. “Fuck me like I’m your whore.”

Roger has never heard him talk like this before, but he can’t deny that it turns him on. “I love your dirty fucking mouth,” he curses against John’s chest.

He pulls the drumstick out, tossing it aside. He backs away from John to reach in his pocket, retrieving a condom. He yanks his trousers down to his knees, cock springing free as his boxers follow. His hands tremble and shake with desire, hardly able to move fast enough to offset how much he wants this.

“Want your hands all over me,” John tells him as he preps himself, coating his cock in lube. “Make it rough, I like that too.”

“Is there anything you don’t like?”

“I do have _some_ standards, Roger.” 

Roger lines himself up and enters John. It’s the first time they’ve ever gone this far and he’s buzzing from the feeling. It’s new to him, yet Roger has been daydreaming about it recently. Now it’s really happening. John spreads his legs further to get him closer, deeper inside of him.

His first thrust is long and slow, making John yearn for more. He lets his hands fall wherever they can, which happens to be the top of Roger’s back. His dull nails dig into the muscle there.

“Harder,” John demands. He pulls Roger closer, almost chest to chest as they rock together.

“You’re so damn bossy.” Roger thinks it’s funny, almost endearing in a strange way. 

“Do you really expect anything less of me?”

Roger picks up the pace, thinking that maybe it’ll get John to shut his mouth. He pushes in to the hilt and pulls back again, rhythmic, like his drumming. He pounds into John like he begged for, giving him everything he has.

His hands travel from John’s hips, up his body, the leather caressing his skin. He put the gloves on just for him tonight; they’ve never seen a single show, with the exception of this one. But this is a different kind of show entirely. John moans in his ear, breathy and low.

“Always knew you’d be good in bed,” John says, voice wrecked. “Can tell by the way you play.”

“Is that so?”

The slapping of their skin can probably be heard through the paper thin walls of their hotel room. Neither of them care enough to worry about it right now. Complaints to the front desk don’t matter when they’ll be in another city in a few hours anyway, continuing their life on tour.

John is so tight around Roger and it’s making him dizzy, everything just right between them. His thrusts are so rough that he sends John’s body forward with each one. John clings to him, hands clutching his muscles, nails dragging.

Roger feels John’s hot breath on his cheek. He stretches and captures his lips, locking them between his own. A moan escapes his mouth and he starts to feel the effects of his orgasm, so close to the tipping point.

“Fuckin’ close,” John cries out, before releasing between them, covering their stomachs in his come.

Roger follows soon after, hips stuttering and letting go with a groan, lips still ghosting over John’s lips. The two of them are a sweaty disaster together, the ecstasy washing over them like waves. It’s a seemingly endless high neither want to let go of too soon, if ever.

John lays back as Roger pulls out of him. He lets himself fall right by his side. “Drummers hit it harder, they say. They’re right.”

“Bassists do it deeper, might I add,” Roger props his head up, resting on a gloved hand. “I wouldn’t mind seeing that one for myself.”

“So you’re saying you’d do this again? The other way around?”

Roger smiles. He’s never doubted it, never doubted whatever it is they have going. “I would. Just no drumsticks for me, yeah?”

John punches his arm lightly. “Okay, sure. Whatever you want.” He winks.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here’s the final installment. thank you for reading and thank you Tash for existing. you’re such a beautiful person. happy birthday again my love ❤️

“Still want me to wear the gloves?”

“Fuck yeah I do.”

Roger smiles, his classic knockout grin, as he digs in his suitcase for the infamous gloves. His heart flutters in his chest as he slips them on, knowing what’s to come next. He shouldn’t be so nervous. John would never mistreat him. 

He has never done this before, never been on the receiving end before, with John, or any other man for that matter. As their fooling around has continued, they’ve been inseparable even outside of their hotel rooms. If the others have noticed, they haven’t mentioned it. Roger is somewhat thankful for that.

Roger makes his way over to John, shirtless on the hotel bed. He heaves out a gentle sigh, climbing on top of him, straddling his thighs. There’s an unopened condom and lube on the duvet next to them, which John almost knocks off the bed as he lays back. Roger’s weight atop him feels so good, so familiar and so right.

Words seem to fall to the wayside for a few moments. Roger’s lips travel down John’s neck, down his chest. He revels in the sound of his breath hitching, air getting caught in his throat as he enjoys the feeling.

When he finally pulls away, John’s reaching to get him out of his trousers. He shucks them off and tosses them to the floor carelessly. He helps John match him, smiling at the tent in his boxers. The fluttering feeling is beginning to fade. It’s just John, it’s just them switching places.

Roger watches John’s face as he steadies himself, gloved hands gripping onto his hips as he grinds down on him. A sigh escapes his parted lips and his hands caress Roger’s thighs.

“Take your time,” John says, voice soft, earnest. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Me neither.”

“I’m gonna flip you, might make this easier,” John tells him, as he takes Roger and lays him down on the bed.

It’s really a change of pace now, with John on top of him. He likes it. He _loves_ it, actually. He could get used to this. Roger pulls him down into a heated kiss, drinking in John as much as he can. Their lips move together, rhythmic, so in synch with each other that it makes his heart swell. Something’s telling him they were meant to do this, meant to be together this way.

John moves to grab the lube. “This might feel weird, but I think you’ll learn to like it.” He smiles, looking at Roger with dilated pupils.

He tugs off Roger’s boxers, half hard cock free. He watches as he slicks up two calloused fingers.

“Ready?” he asks.

Roger notes his gentleness, it’s quite endearing. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to get enough of John like this. “Yeah.”

John pushes his legs further apart and presses the first finger in slowly. Roger’s palms are sweaty in the leather gloves. He breathes and tries to relax, waiting for John to move.

After a while, it starts feeling nice. “More.” Roger trusts him with his life, with everything he has.

“Are you sure?” A tentative John asks. He’s melting Roger down to a core he never thought he had, their bond growing deeper than ever before.

“I’m sure, John.”

He complies with tact, pushing another long finger into him. Roger sucks in a shallow breath, chest expanding slowly.

John notices right away. “Relax, babe.”

The latter word has Roger feeling like a teenager again, giddy and nervous and high on the feeling. He hears it in his head again and again; it bounces around, ricochets in the sweetest way. “I’m alright,” he reassures him.

John starts scissoring his fingers, spreading inside Roger. He moans softly underneath him, the sound like music to John’s ears. He rests his other hand on his hip, the pressure aiding in his growing pleasure.

“Feels really good,” Roger manages to utter as John goes deeper. “Keep going.”

“I told you you’d like being on the bottom.”

A third finger is added and Roger has forgotten the existence of all else, all he can think about is John. They make eye contact in the heat of their intimate moment.

“Do I make you feel this good?” Roger asks, back arching slightly off the duvet.

John chuckles. “You make me feel fantastic.”

Roger feels heat pooling already, and he knows he needs John this instant. “Now,” he moans, “fuck me, Johnny.”

He feels his heavenly fingers slip out of him. John’s hesitation seems to lift as he shucks off his own trousers and boxers, weeping cock ready for Roger. He reaches for the condom and opens it with his teeth, the gesture so very John that it makes Roger smile.

He knows in this moment that he’s got John wrapped around his finger. And he couldn’t be more pleased with that.

John rolls the condom down his cock and coats himself liberally. He looks to Roger for assurance before he starts to inch in, slow and steady. The stretch has Roger still, allowing himself the time he needs to adjust to his size.

“Okay?” John checks.

Roger nods, hands above his head. He’s the one spread out this time, instead of John, and it’s so much better than he dreamed, somehow. He’s enjoying this and doesn’t want it to end, he wants to feel this cared for all the time.

John’s hands find his own, fingers intertwining. It helps distract him from the temporary discomfort he feels. It’s starting to fade as John pushes in further, inch by inch filling him up.

“You look amazing, Rog.” John eyes him, smaller frame on display just for him tonight. “Feel amazing, too.”

Roger moans, showered in John’s affection. He feels him start to pull back and dive back in again, the pleasure outweighing the pain. He was right, of course: he likes this. He likes it a lot, especially with John.

“Harder, John.”

He lets go of his hands and settles them on either side of his waist on the bed. He sets up a steady pace, his thrusts sending Roger to places he never knew existed before tonight. John’s pretty face contorts with the pleasure he feels.

Roger has never felt more loved before. He realizes he needs to have John in every way he can have him. He wants to call him his more than anything. Their experimentation has only made his feelings stronger, much more prominent as they meet behind closed doors again and again.

John draws back and pushes all the way in again, hitting Roger’s prostate dead on. He cries out, the ecstasy felt everywhere in his body. His toes curl and his eyes screw shut. His mind is a mantra of John, John, _John_.

“Close,” John mutters. “ _Fuck_.”

Roger knows he won’t last either. John seems to know just what to do to make him feel good, to inch him closer to his orgasm. He’s racing towards his finish, and before he knows it, he’s coming, practically seeing stars as he clutches at the duvet beneath him.

John follows, releasing inside Roger’s perfect little body, riding out his climax with a moan he can’t hold back. He pulls out and misses his tight heat around him as soon as he does.

Roger wishes they could have lasted longer, but he has a good feeling that this won’t be the last time they do this together. They come down after a few moments, the feelings that are washing over them almost overwhelming. Roger pulls him down with a gloved hand, the two of them a messy pile of limbs on the bed. He couldn’t care less.

“I think I know what you’re going to say.” John is looking into his eyes. They’re both vulnerable. Every wall between them has come down and they’re left face to face.

Roger smiles. “And what would that be?”

“Hmm, I think I’d rather hear you say it.”

“Fine. Do you... want us to be a thing? Together?”

John takes his hands, pulling off the gloves, one after the other. He then interlocks their fingers again, huge dorky smile plastered on his face. “I would like that.”

They share a celebratory kiss, full of emotion. The gloves are forgotten about for the time being.


End file.
